A Freshman's Guide to Ruining Your Band
by Mae-Lynn Moodle
Summary: Don't you all recall a time whenever you were young and innocent and clueless, you know whenever you were a freshman?Well here's my story of my 1st yr in band to bring you back memoirs! Now read and review now! Fifth Chapter is now up! ^_^
1. The Beginning

****

A Freshman's Guide to Ruining Your Band

__

Chapter One

The Beginning

  


**__**

A/n: Hi it's me again! This is based on a true story-- my story to be exact! Don't you all recall a time whenever you were young and innocent and clueless, you know, whenever you were a **freshman**…..Well here's my story of my first year in marching band and I'm here to help you bring back memoirs of whenever you were once a froshy. I know I had already posted the first chapter a long time ago up here but I deleted it because it was way too short. Now I added my whole entire freshman band camp experience all into one chapter and it's the proper size for a chapter. But don't go anywhere; the real band camp is about to start and that's where it gets really funny and interesting! The pranks, the section wars…ohh I don't want to spoil it for you now, do I? Well keep reading and find out what happens. Oh yeah, and review, please review. I will love yew very much if you do! ^_^

I never wanted to be in marching band. I didn't want to waste my time and elective on something like that—I wanted something more like art or maybe a drama class. But no, my mom made me. How else was I supposed to get to college? I told her to get a band scholarship, you had to actually be good—very good, to be frank. And that I was not. I was just an incoming freshman clarinet with no extraordinary talent like some. Now don't get me wrong… I didn't play bad. But like I said, I was just an incoming freshman. Sure I had made honor band my eighth grade year. But it wasn't like I made first chair, first band. And it wasn't **that** hard to make it, after all. You just had to practice the music.

Now on my first day at freshman band camp, I woke up excited. I don't care what people say, I **always** care about what people think about me. I can't help it. And I'm a people-person. I absolutely love being around people my age and meeting new people…. And to talk…I love to talk! Well, anyhow, I had picked out a really cute outfit, hoping to give a good impression to my fellow classmates that I would be meeting that day. That was a big mistake. When I got there, I saw a load of people who gave a distinctive meaning to the term "band dork". Nobody else had cared about their appearances. In fact, they were all wearing the most unfashionable mixed-matched clothes. It was basically lounge-wear—you know comfortable clothes…stuff that I'd never been seen in public in. 

Oh, and I regretted my outfit so much later on when we actually started working in the heat.

I tried to make new friends, but I just felt miserable. I didn't know any of these people and it didn't matter what they thought about me because they apparently didn't care about how they or other people looked. They also looked like a bunch of geeks…not really my group type. I didn't really want to be seen hanging around with people like that now, did I?

Later on I would realize that these people would be the best friends anybody could ever have.

Finally the band staff walked out and asked us to hush. They handed out nametags to everybody there and told us to keep them at the top of our shirts and to NOT take them off for any reason. They had our name and instrument typed on it already for us. Then the staff went about introducing themselves. For some reason, I always have the worst first impressions when I first meet somebody. First the flute section leader stood up. She was tall, skinny and had pretty dark hair. She was wearing a tiny tank top and gave a new meaning to "short-shorts." My first impression of her was a slut and a stuck-up snob.

"Hi," she said. "My name is Michelle. I'm a senior and I'm the flute section leader."

Next was my section leader—clarinet. A guy stood up and smiled. He seemed really hyper and reminded me of a monkey for some reason. "Hi, I'm TJ!" he piped up. "I'm a senior and I'm the clarinet section leader." I really didn't pay attention to the rest of the section leaders, as my mind was off in my own little world. I was wondering **what** in the world actually was a section leader and what did they do?

After a lot of talking and introducing, we finally went outside to learn marching fundamentals, which at the time I can honestly say that I had no clue in the world what that was. We went out into the school's parking lot (or one of them) and stood in the shade…. Thank god. We got into a block and Mr. Roeder turned his little megaphone thing on and did a whole lot of talking. 

Now half of the people in the block were not freshman. They were just upperclassmen coming to get a fresh review before they went back to band camp. Or maybe they just came to pick on us freshmen who had no earthly idea what we were doing. Since the upperclassmen outnumbered us, they made us look bad because they knew what they were doing and we didn't. Can't you imagine that? Over half of the people doing in right, looking completely confident as if that was second nature to them and then the rest of the people were stumbling around looking or standing still looking uncertainly around at the people around them. I thought it was the hardest thing in the world.

I actually laugh about that now. I now could do that stuff perfect in my sleep, as if it **were** second nature to me!

Eventually we picked up the basic 1-e-&-a stuff….then we got faster and went a walking pace instead of step-by-step. But we weren't having too much luck. I actually got so frustrated that I just copped a squat right where I was standing. I really don't think I should have done that. Mr. Roeder, the band director, absolutely **hates** it when people just give up or complain. Everybody else there was trying, at least. He embarrassed me over the mega-phone thing of his. I was mortified at first and just wanted to run and hide my face. 

But now later on, I realize I shouldn't have let something like that get to me. In fact, that wasn't the only time Mr. Roeder embarrassed me like that over the intercom in front of everybody. But I also wasn't the only one that he embarrassed like that. He seemed to do it to everybody. But to me, it seemed like he always picked on me. But like I said, that was just to me it seemed that way because I never really paid attention to what he said to the others; I had far too much other stuff to be working on. However, it seems like nobody ever noticed it either. 

After much sweating, complaining, hollering, and embarrassing, Mr. Roeder led us back into the band room (which is like a second home to me now) to work on our show music. We all sat down and the section leaders handed out our folders, which held our music. This year's theme was Riverdance. Lovely. Like that meant anything to me then. Mr. Roeder talked a little bit, we warmed up and then we sight-read a bit. Then he asked us to look at our music while he played the actual recording of the music. 

When I heard that music, I was terrified. In middle school, we were used to playing beginning level one music with your basic quarter notes and occasional eighth notes at a speed in which even snails could pass. But this—this music—did they actually think that we could play this stuff? Honestly! I looked to my right at another fellow freshman clarinet, named Kim. Her eyes were huge with terror and anxiety. "I can't play this!" she mouthed to me. Heh. That was just the first piece to the Riverdance music. It was the next one that was really hard. Yeah, it sounded cool. But I can't even imagine what it'd sound like whenever I'd try to play something that fast at that high of notes—far from cool or pretty. You couldn't even get an "interesting". It'd be more like "ugh! What was that? Attack of the killer clarinet?!"

And finally, we were allowed to put up our instruments. We put them up and the room filled with the ramble of everybody talking about the new music. I actually heard a few of the upperclassmen say something like, "Ohmigod, can you believe he gave us something like this? It's soo easy!" I wanted to puke right there. After we were finished, Mr. Roeder came back up. He talked a little while, telling us to practice on our music and our marching fundamentals, and then he finally dismissed us.

And such was my first day at Freshman Band Camp, and the beginning of a successful year in band.

The next morning I woke up, my muscles ached. I crawled out of bed and got ready for my second day at freshman band camp. 

When looking for that day's outfit, I didn't pick out the most expensive, impressive and glittery outfit I could find, unlike the previous day. Instead, I traded in heels for tennis shoes and skin-tight capris for flexible shorts.

I was much more comfortable, but don't get me wrong-- I didn't look as bad as most of the people did yesterday. I was willing to sacrifice glam in order to be comfortable but I wasn't going to lose my reputation as somebody who cared about how they looked. 

I threw my hair into a ponytail, got my clarinet, and told my mom that I was ready to leave.

When I got there, there wasn't many people there yet, as I was thirty minutes early. 

You see, that's Mr. Roeder's motto: _if you're on time, you're late!_

So I sat down and just wandered off into La-La Land. After a while, a girl walked up to me and sat down by my side. I had seen her before at a Band-Booster's meeting but we never actually spoke. One glance at her nametag told me that she was a member of the Colorguard. But I didn't need to look at the tag to know that; Aunt Sally, who was in charge of the Guard, made all of the members wear white T-shirts to camp. In that glance, I also noticed that, just like me, she really cared about her appearance. 

"Hi," the girl said. "My name is Shawna Bell." She smiled really big, flashing pearly white teeth. We talked a little more, until Roeder called us to start.

And from then on, Shawna and I have been the best of friends.

Things were a whole lot easier for me that day. I don't know if it's because I was happy that I finally met somebody with whom I could be friends with or if it was because I was determined to show those upperclassmen that I could do it, freshman or not. 

About halfway throughout the day, we went to go and get fitted for band uniforms. We went about three people at a time. When my name was called, I went with a flute-girl named Candace and that clarinet player, Kim. 

When I first saw the uniforms, my worst fears about marching band were confirmed. They were hideous and such a fashion disaster. They were blue, gold and white. It had trousers with…oh come on…heh.. **suspenders**. They had padded shoulders and we got to wear plumes! How lovely! I most definitely did **not** want to be seen wearing **that** at football games, where everybody hung out on Friday nights.

At first I swore that come game night, I wouldn't wear it. They were such fashion disasters. 

And the Guard got to wear cute little dresses! No fair!

Heh. Now that cracks me up every time I think about it. Eventually, we got used to the uniforms and learned to...cough, cough…love them. Now that's a sign of a true band nerd.

After we got fitted for the uniforms, we went back outside and joined the rest of the band. It was a bit hard on me because while we were inside, we had missed out on learning backwards slides. But eventually I got the hang of it, although it took me only, what, forever?

Finally, we went to the band room for refuge against the sweltering heat and practiced the highly complicated show music.

The night before I took the music home and actually practiced it. So today I could actually play a measure or two, unlike yesterday, when I had just sat there in amazement staring at the upperclassmen clarinets while their fingers fumbled everywhere.

After what seemed like only forever, they finally dismissed us. But we had to go back in a couple of hours for chair try-outs. They had given us this complicated music to audition for chairs.

So I went home, took a shower, practiced a bit, ate lunch and was off back to school again. 

Once there I started to get my normal case of nerves again. Okay, I have bad stage fright and I can't play good under pressure. It actually hurts me. Hours later, I'm always still aching and shaking all over. And then I take it out on myself because I did so badly.

But it also didn't help any for the fact that the upperclassmen were just whizzing through the music as they practiced until their name was called. I felt very intimidated. 

Finally I heard Mr. Roeder shout from his office, "Next victim…" 

My turn. Joy! And it really didn't help matters any by him shouting that, either. 

I walked into his office with my music and instrument, already shaking with nerves. I sat down in the chair and started to play. But then I stopped at the first squeak, er, note, that is… I tried again…and again..and still no avail! So basically did the same thing to the rest of my music. And embarrassed myself so bad. I walked out of the office crying. 

It was so embarrassing, what, with everybody I knew running up and asking if I was okay and everybody I didn't know look at me as if I were some creep.

So I went home and did the only thing I could do at the time… wait until tomorrow, the last day of freshman camp, to find out the chair audition results.

The next day I woke up and started to get dressed. I had clothes already laid out for today that I picked out last night but I changed my mind at the last minute. I threw the blue jean shorts back onto my bed and pulled out some comfortable parachute-material surf shorts. I didn't completely avoid make-up but I purposely left out the glitter, mascara and shiny lipgloss. 

I grabbed my clarinet, music, and informed my mom that I was ready to leave. I got to the school early, as I was yesterday, but not quite as early. 

When I walked into the band room I saw that my new friend Shawna was here already, sitting on the floor talking to a couple of other girls. I walked up behind her and tapped her on the back. She turned and saw I was there, greeted me and then introduced me to the Colorguard friends that she was talking to.

There was Savannah, Marca, and Nicole (also known as Amber), who were all freshmen. I already knew Marca and Nicole from junior high. Then there was Erica (a junior) and Wendy (a senior, and I also think she's the rifle captain or something like that). 

I already knew Nicole had just met Savannah, both of which I was going to be roomed with a band camp next week. The other girl that I was rooming with, Kimberly (known as Kim), wasn't here yet. I went to middle school with Kim but I never really got to know her that well. 

She was a bit different but I admired her for that. She had grown up on a farm way off far away from town. She wore tight wrangler jeans and cowboy boots. 

Oh yeah, and she was majorly obsessed with horses. All she talked about were her horses. She drew pictures of horses, read books that were about horses…you get the point. 

Since she went to the same school as I did last year, I also knew that she got picked on for her eccentricness. Just because she's different. That really gets me mad. To this day, people still talk about her, except for now I don't just listen, I defend Kim and tell those people off. Kim and I are really good friends and I don't know what I'd do without her because she's the only other girl freshman clarinet and is also a really great listener.

It's also a known fact about Kim that she hates band, she hates the band director, and the only reason she's in band is because her mom makes her. I've tried persuading her not to quit because, for a freshman, she doesn't suck. My band director even told me that he thought she had potential.

Oh yeah, back to the subject. Finally the last day of freshman band camp had started. We sat in our sections, he took roll, talked for like ever and then we found out what chairs we made. As he called out the list, we were to move to our new order. Finally he got to the clarinet section. 

First chair was TJ, our section leader, of course. Second chair was Courtney, a junior, who also played bass clarinet during concert season. Third chair was a senior guy named Justin, who liked to joke around a lot. Fourth chair was a junior girl named Hannah. She was short and a little chubby but she had that "aww so cute" look to her, for some reason. She didn't look like she was a junior at all. Fifth chair was Aaron, also a freshman. I had knew him from sixth grade. He was always first chair and the best. Next, in sixth chair, was me. Seventh chair was Kim. And in the final eighth chair was a senior, Candace. Candace was really good but she didn't make it to the try-outs which automatically makes you last chair. Only TJ, Courtney, and us three freshman went to band camp though. 

I was really upset with myself. I kept on mentally scolding myself, you made 6th out of 8 chairs? And what was worse was that I was really supposed to be 7th chair, not a chair higher. Candace was an awesome clarinetist, not to mention a senior, and the only reason she was in last chair was because she hadn't tried out.

My friend Kim had tried comforting me by telling me that I was competing with a bunch of upperclassmen who had way much more experience playing an instrument, not to mention the high-school level music. But what really made me feel better is her saying, 'At least you didn't make last chair, or pretty much last chair." I was only a chair higher than her but yet she wasn't being as hard on herself as I was on myself. She just merely shrugged and that was it. Why couldn't I ever accept things just like she does? Why am I so freaking stubborn?!

After that we practiced a bit more on our show music and then went outside for a little while. Afterwards we all came back inside, feeling proud of ourselves because we finally managed to learn all of the marching fundamentals. We could now march a figure eight with hip-shifts and slides while playing a F-concert scale. We got some water, put our instruments up and sat down in our sections so Mr. Roeder could talk to us before he dismissed us.

He congratulated us on accomplishing so much and told us to be prepared next Monday morning when we went out of town to band camp. He told us not to forget a water bottle, bathing suit, toothbrush, towels, soap and shampoo, blankets and the such. And then he finally dismissed. We ran out of the band building screaming immaturely like children, happy for freshman camp to be over, and the weekend's come, with emotions and ambitions running high. I just couldn't wait for band camp to come!

**__**

Endnote: So, did you like it? Well whether you did our not, please please please review! I'll love yew forever more, I promise!

Love ya lots!

--Mae-Lynn Moodle, KlarinetKween


	2. The Tale of the Missing Silver Stick and...

****

A Freshman's Guide to Ruining Your Band

__

Chapter Two

The Missing Silver Stick and Piece of Plastic

****

A/n: Hi it's me again! This is based on a true story-- my story to be exact! Don't you all recall a time whenever you were young and innocent and clueless, you know, whenever you were a **freshman**…..Well here's my story of my first year in marching band and I'm here to help you bring back memoirs of whenever you were once a froshy.

Well here's the second chapter. I'm sorry it took me so long, I've been very busy (more like very lazy.) I'd like to thank all of the people who had reviewed the first chapter. Thank you so much. And hope you all enjoy the second chapter just as much as you did the first one. When you get finished reading, please review. If you've already reviewed, then review again! ^_^ Feel free to give me suggestions. Try not to give me any ideas. I might change my true story into an exaggerated and more interesting version. All right, so I better quit yapping and start writing (and straining to remember everything that's happened.)

The night before band camp, I was rushing around looking for everything I needed. I had my clarinet, music, towels, suntan lotion, water bottles, my hair-dryer, make-up, clothes, shampoo, soap but I couldn't find my music lyre and flip folder anywhere. 

The week before, Mr. Roeder told us if he we didn't have one or the other, we would have to run two laps around the football field for each that we didn't have. That's four laps---which equals exactly one mile! I hated to run. Just one lap made me really weak, aching all over and out of breath. One mile--- well you can pretty much imagine that. I'd probably faint after the first two laps, if not even the first half. How embarrassing! 

My once before clean room had looked like a tornado had passed through it (which is kind of ironic, since we're the Sulphur Tornadoes) after I tore it up looking for the two items. 

After I couldn't find it anywhere in my room, I turned around and did the same to my brother's room. Needless to say, since I never go in there and he hasn't an excuse to take my band 'toys', it wasn't in there either. I looked just about everywhere in my freaking house, and I _still_ couldn't find it. 

By then, I was in a very irritable mood, low on patience and paranoid about the consequences of what would happen when I showed up at band camp without either. 

The next step, after tearing up my house, was to call all local music stores to see if they were open. Obviously, since it was 7:30 on a Sunday night, none were open. 

Then I tried all of my band friends that had traded instruments for 4-foot long poles. I tried Nicole (Amber) but she said she gave her clarinet to Kim and the lyre was in the instrument case. I then got Kim's number from her and called her. She said it wasn't in the case. I called Nicole back and she said yes, it was in the case. I called Kim back again and she told me she knew for sure _that it was not in the clarinet case_. 

I started to dial Marca's phone number when I realized she played the flute. It would probably be more embarrassing whenever my music was flying away and Roeder announced for the whole camp to hear on the speaker, "That's for the…haha…flute…Silly freshman…." I might not have to run the four laps but I didn't to get the award of Most Clueless Freshman at the award banquet at the end of the year.

I wasn't exactly in the best mood about that time. A freaking silver stick and a black piece of plastic ruined my once excited bubbly mood. 

After a while I had given up and went to go eat dinner. After I had finished eating and doing my after-dinner chores, I went back into my room to double-check that I had everything.

After that I laid down on my bed and sighed deeply. I knew, I just knew that Roeder was going to embarrass me over the loud speaker whenever I told him the reason my music was flying away was because I didn't have my music lyre or flip folder. As I was pondering the many ways he might possibly punish me, a silver something gleaming in the light caught my eye. I immediately got up and ran to examine it.

It was the music lyre lying right on top of the flip folder.

I started cackling evilly on the spot. It happened to be in a spot that I had already looked in at least three times earlier that day. How could I have missed it? 

I ran out of my room, located my mom, and screamed "I found it!" 

My mom looked up from the computer, nodded, and said "yeah, good for you". Then she went back to the computer screen. 

I then launched into the story of how I was laying in the bed, I saw it glittering in the light and discovered it was in a spot that had looked in at least three timed. 

In the middle of my explanation, she interrupted my rudely by saying, "you know it's very hard to read my e-mail if you won't ever shut yourmouth." If anybody ever tells you that computers are not addictive, slap them hard in the face.

I turned on my heel and went back into my room.

The next morning I awoke at seven o'clock and started to get ready. I took a shower and got dressed. I put on make-up and spent a little bit more time on my make-up than the last few days because I figured we wouldn't be really working today. 

The trip would be a few hours and then we would have to set up and get situated. But I could've been wrong; I wouldn't know. I was a freshman and that was my first time ever going to band camp. 

Actually I did turn out to be wrong-- but more about that later.

I loaded my stuff up in the car and went back into my house to fetch my parents and some breakfast. Two minutes later I came back out carrying a doughnut with my mom following closely behind me. I opened the car door to get in when my strawberry filled doughnut fell out of its napkin and dropped on the dirty ground. I looked at the dirt-covered doughnut and let out a cry of disgust. I looked at my mom, and she shook her head.

"Can't I just go back in there real quick and grab another one?" I asked her.

She shook her head again and said, "No, you'll be late if you do."

"Please--?"

"No!"

For the rest of the trip to the school I sat in the passenger's seat pouting with my arms crossed, and staring out of the window. 

However, my temper tantrum didn't last. I mean, I was going to band camp! I shouldn't be upset over the loss of my favorite doughnut I should be excited I'm actually going! 

When we finally arrived at Sulphur High, I saw people and luggage everywhere and a huge Ryder truck. Everybody was dumping their belongings in front of it and going into the band room. 

I opened the car door and jumped out.

"Do you need some help?" my mom asked me.

"Nah, I can handle it," I replied. "Just pop open the trunk. I don't have that much stuff." 

I grabbed my suitcase, back sack, and clarinet and dumped them in front of the big yellow Ryder truck. I gave my mom a hug. 

Then I went inside the band building. I found that everybody was sitting in their sections on the floor. My eyes wandered around the band room as I searched for the eight members of the clarinet section. I smiled when I found them and ran over to join them. 

TJ, and Courtney were the only upperclassmen that I had met at freshman band camp. But I had never met Candace, Justin (both seniors) and Hannah (junior.) 

Candace seemed like a nice enough person but I found out later on that she really didn't care for little freshman. She always seemed happy and was always smiling and laughing. But when a freshman talked to her or asked her for help she would just glare. 

Justin, now, was one of the nicest seniors in band. He wasn't exactly the best clarinet there was but he was always joking around and willing to help. 

He even helped me a few times with my music because the section leader was always busy and Candace was too smug to help someone younger than her. Justin was also engaged to the Guard Captain, Stephanie. It was a known fact that they had been going out for years and they planned to get married the day after their graduation. Stephanie was also a nice person. They so deserved each other and I think that they made the most adorable couple. 

He was basically the section clown. I guess you could've called Candace the section ditz because she had an annoying high-pitched voice and she was very dingy. She was also a blonde; she had a red tint to her hair, but she was still blonde.

I sat next to Kim and we started talking about how nervous we both were. We both also felt very out of place with being surrounded by upperclassmen. I mean we really weren't official high-schoolers yet. We were just in the middle between middle school and high school. 

I noticed that while we were talking, Kim kept looking over towards the upperclassmen clarinets.

"Who're you looking at?" I asked her.

"No one," she said with a sly grin.

"Ooh," I squealed. "Is Kimmy crushing on a senior?" 

She slapped me hard. "Don't call me Kimmy!" she said, though she couldn't help but join in the giggling.

"Don't avoid the topic!" I said. I sat and thought for a minute. "Hold on….--" I started.

"--to what?" she interrupted me, still giggling.

"It's TJ, isn't it!" I said.

She immediately stopped giggling. "No it isn't!" she said. "Who's TJ, anyhow?"

"Oh don't play dumb," I said. "He's the clarinet section leader," I said, a little too loudly. TJ looked up from his conversation at us, confused.

Kim leaned over and whispered harshly into my ear, "you better not tell anybody. And I don't have a crush on him, I just think he's kind of cute."

And the topic was never brought up again-- that is, until we got to band camp.

Kim and I both talked until Roeder came out of his office and asked us to hush. He talked for a long time until he percussionists were finished loading up the luggage in the Ryder truck. 

That's something that I never quite understood. Roeder always made the percussionists load everything. But then again when it came to unloading things, we all got to help. We always formed a long line from the tuck to the object's destination, which was usually the band room, and we passed everything along the line until the Ryder truck was unloaded.

When the percussionists were finished, they came in and sat down. Roeder said a few more words and we loaded onto the buses. When we were all on the bus, the drivers took roll call and we were off on a three-hour drive to what I _thought_ was going to be funnest place in world…. which actually turned out to be a place to work from six in the morning to ten at night.

**__**

Endnote: So, did you like it? Well whether you did our not, please please please review! I'll love yew forever more, I promise! Keep a lookout for future chapters also. More band experiences that you could probably relate to!

Love ya lots!

--Mae-Lynn Moodle, KlarinetKween


	3. Upperclassmen, Scary Band Camp Legends a...

****

A Freshman's Guide to Ruining Your Band

__

Chapter Three

Upperclassmen, Scary Band Camp Legends and the Case of the Bunk Beds

****

A/n: Hi it's me again! This is based on a true story-- my story to be exact! Don't you all recall a time whenever you were young and innocent and clueless, you know, whenever you were a **freshman**…..Well here's my story of my first year in marching band and I'm here to help you bring back memoirs of whenever you were once a froshy.

Well here's the third chapter. I really hope you enjoy it! I worked really hard on it. I'd also like to thank everybody who reviewed and double thank the lovely people who reviewed more than once. As for the people who haven't reviewed yet, well then review now! And if you have reviewed, it wouldn't hurt to review again. I'll love you all forever more!

I sat at the front of the bus with a sophomore girl named Ashley. She was actually Kim's older sister. Ashley played the saxophone and she was exactly opposite of Kimberly.

Unlike Kim, Ashley loved everything about band. She was what you called a true band nerd-- but don't get me wrong, she wasn't embarrassed of it. She was actually proud of being a Bando. 

I wasn't exactly proud of being in band at first but later on I got used to it; then I started to really practice and had a reason to be proud.

At first I didn't really like Ashley. Remember how I told you that I have the worst first impressions? Well here's your proof. 

When I first met Ashley I thought she was going to be stuck-up. I saw her at a band-booster meeting, the same one that I first saw Shawna at and thought she was also going to be stuck-up. I had saw Ashley bossing Kim around and acting like she was all that. 

Another reason that I wasn't exactly fond of Ashley was because for band dorms, we were allowed to have four people to a room. My friend, Marca, and I had made plans earlier at the beginning of the summer to bunk together in the same dorm. 

The two other girls rooming with her were a junior Colorguard girl named Erica and a French horn player freshman also named Ashley. 

Ashley was one of the sweetest and smartest people that you will ever meet. She took all advanced courses in school and she played the French horn really awesome. 

Roeder also really liked Ashley. It was a known band fact that Roeder wasn't exactly fond of freshman. But Ashley was different. She played French horn better than anybody else, including the upperclassmen and let's just face it-- she was good. 

Her sister was also an awesome flute player a couple years back that Roeder really liked. I think she might have been drum major too, but that's just a rumor and I'm not exactly sure if she was really drum major. I really should find out these kind of things if I'm writing about them, huh? 

Erica tossed rifles or whatever. She has the coolest eyes though. They were yellowish looking with a bit of green tint to them. Everybody thought they were just awesome. My nickname for Erica was 'Hawkeye'. 

She was just about as sweet as Ashley (freshman) but unfortunately not as smart. She wasn't stupid at all it's just Ashley's super intelligent.

Whenever I went to the band booster meeting was when we were supposed to signup for roommates. At the end of the meeting they told us to get in line to signup. 

I was already in line but Kim and her sister were behind me. I had already known Kim so I let her cut. Her sister Ashley just took it upon herself to cut too. 

I didn't say anything. I mean, it was just only one person. Was there really a difference? 

Actually, yes.

By the time I got there, my spot in Marca's room was already taken. I looked to see who it was. Can you guess? 

Did I actually think one person was going to make a difference? No, I didn't.

Did one person actually make a difference? Yes, it did.

I was mad. And when I say mad, I mean mad. Then again, I always get mad so I guess you can say it wasn't really anything. I always forgive and forget anyhow.

Needless to say, Ashley and I didn't talk much on the bus. Instead, I just listened to the funny upperclassmen making jokes and trying to scare us away. 

Something that I noticed was that an upperclassman could say anything, and it would be hilarious. But if a freshman uttered any word of humor they would stare at you like you were psycho. 

One time the upperclassmen were into an interesting conversation about odd songs. So this other guy, Justin Powell, an obnoxious and very annoying freshman saxophone, decided to join in and started to talk about that song "yellow Submarine." They just glared at him. 

Then this senior piccolo shook her head and muttered the word "freshman" with obvious disgust. 

Now you probably would have thought that Justin learned his lesson. _Psyche!_

Of course he didn't. Justin never ever quit. I knew him from middle school and he's always been that way. To this day, he still is like that. 

You get used to it after a while though. We just learned to ignore him.

They were telling us freshman about all of the pranks that have been played on freshman in the history of Sulphur High band camp. 

They told us about how one year they snuck in the freshman girl's rooms while they were sleeping and stole their dirty underwear and hung them up in the common room for everybody to see the next morning; the people who took them knew who they all belonged to who so it was really embarrassing whenever you had to find yours and pretended like they accidentally missed you and yours wasn't there. 

Then another time they put this foam stuff in the toilets and if you peed, it bounced right back up at you. 

Or one time they tied the doors together (they were two facing each other in a narrow hall all down the hall). Then they got one person to scream very loudly. Everybody woke up to see what was happening just to find their door wouldn't open. Soon all of the girls in the whole girls' dormitories were screaming blooding murdering pulling from both sides of every door making it impossible to open it. 

Finally Roeder came to investigate and he cut the rope and calmed the girls down. These endless stories went on forever, scaring the hell out of us freshman, until we finally arrived at band camp.

Band camp was being held at some kind of church place. The people who cleaned the dorms and worked in the cafeteria were volunteers from the church that owned the camp grounds.

When we got there, we were told just to stand by the bus and stretch but not to go anywhere. I immediately found my new friend Shawna, who had rode a different bus that I. 

We talked for a little while until the whistle was blown. The chatter stopped and everyone's attention grew to the fat balding man, also known as the band director, standing in front of us.

"Okay," he said, "I want everybody to go locate their rooms and then immediately report back to here, get in an orderly line from the Ryder truck to the common room and then we'll start unloading. You'll accomplish this by passing everything along the line until it's at its final destination. Any questions?"

A tall older guy raised his hand. He looked about a senior or maybe a junior.

"No questions, then?" Roeder asked.

The guy sighed impatiently and started jumping and waving his hand around in the air impatiently.

Roeder, pretending to be oblivious of the kid jumping around like a maniac, clapped his hands together and said, "Okay, well then, if nobody has any questions, I'll just dismiss you now…"

The guy ran and started to wave his hand frantically in Roeder's face, still trying to earn his attention.

"Oh someone has a question..?" Roeder said, trying to keep a straight face.

"Chris, this is your fourth year in band and you have a question?" teased another upperclassman. "Save it for the freshmen!"

"Yes, Chris?" Roeder finally asked.

"I must urinate!" Chris declared. 

"Huh?" said Roeder.

"I gotta pee!" Chris whined.

"Huh?"

"I gotta goooo!" wailed Chris, pointing at his crotch while doing some sort of jig.

"Ohhh," said Roeder slowly. "Okay… I guess you can go.." Chris then jetted around to the building around the corner. 

When Chris was gone, everybody, including Roeder, burst into laughter. Then Roeder directed towards the remainder of us: "Dismissed." And then we were off.

I caught up with Kim, Savannah and Nicole.

"What room are we?" I asked.

"Twenty-three," Kim informed me. We went around the corner, following the path Chris had made for us and went into the same building. 

There was a huge common room in the middle and on the left, there were the boy's dormitories; on the right side, were the girl's dormitories. The dormitories were arranged in a way to where each faced each other with the common room in the middle.

The common room was like the main hangout room. It had couches, sofas and tables and was really big. 

There was also a huge mirror on one of the walls that all of the girls would look into as they passed by. I really don't even think that the guys noticed that it was there.

We four girls walked into the girl's dormitories, searching for our room.

The girls' dormitories was huge long narrow corridor. On each side of the corridor there were doors facing each other.

Next to each door was a black sign plastered to the wall with a number inscribed on it.

There were two bathrooms with about four toilets, and two shower rooms with about four shower stalls.

After a while we finally located our room which, thankfully, was right next to the showers and bathrooms. That meant that I wouldn't have to wait for an hour in line to take a shower at night.

We walked into our rooms and looked around. 

There were two sets of bunk beds, each on a wall opposite of each other. 

On the middle wall, the one facing the boy's dormitories, had a huge window with some curtains that had a hideous, I mean absolutely _hideous_ pattern. 

The wall facing the window wall was covered with about 20 shelves. No, not shelves, really; it was more like cubbyhole- like cabinets without doors. 

The mattresses on the bunk beds were bare and nasty looking. They were grungy and very dirty. Needless to say, nobody wanted to sleep on them. 

Next to the entrance was a sink with a mirror. Under the sink were four drawers and a small trashcan.

We took one quick glance, as there wasn't much to look at, and left to go help unload. 

There was already a long line formed so we just added on to it. In the front of the line they had already started passing the luggage onward to the people at the end of the line. The black suitcase was then passed to me. 

It didn't look too heavy, but believe me, it was.

Very heavy.

So heavy that I dropped it

"Hey!" I heard somebody shout. "That's mine!"

"Sorry!" I called back regretfully.

"Gee," I told Savannah, "I sure there wasn't anything breakable in there.." 

Savannah giggled as she pushed it to the next person, too scared to pick it up and make the same mistake as I did.

The next suitcase that was passed to me was considerably lighter. I managed to pass that one on safely without dropping it or breaking anything.

It went on like this for about fifteen minutes. Finally the very last suitcase was being passed down. It then reached me. I grabbed it from the person standing in front of me and turned to hand it to Savannah.

__

Riiiiiip!

The handle had ripped right off and the suitcase part fell onto the ground with a loud _thud_. I could've sworn that I heard the slight tinkling sound of glass breaking. 

Laughter broke out. 

"Hey freshman!" somebody shouted, "good job!"

"I'm so sorry, whoever this belongs to," I cried.

"It's all right," said a voice right next to me. I guess it belonged to him. He picked it up and went into the common room. 

The line then turned around and went back into the common room. I went to our room again and found the other three roommates already in there. 

They were solving the issue of bunks.

"I want the top!" Nicole cried.

"Okay then," said Kim, "I don't mind the bottom."

Savannah then turned to me. "Which do you want, top or bottom?" she asked.

"I really don't care," I replied.

"Me neither."

"Well…" I started slowly.

"I kinda want the bottom," Savannah said quickly.

"And I kinda want the top."

"So that all works out then?"

"It's okay with me if it's okay with you."

"It's okay with _me_ if it's okay with _you_," Savannah said.

"I--"

"SHUT IT, YOU TWO!" Kim and Nicole said in unison.

Savannah and I grinned. Maybe this band camp wouldn't be so bad after all.

**__**

Endnote: So, did you like it? Well whether you did our not, please please please review! I'll love yew forever more, I promise! Keep a lookout for future chapters also. More band experiences that you could probably relate to!

Love ya lots!

--Mae-Lynn Moodle, KlarinetKween

__


	4. Drill Sheets and the Curse of the Freshm...

****

A Freshman's Guide to Ruining Your Band

__

Chapter Four

Drill Sheets and the Curse of the Freshman

****

A/n: Hi it's me again! This is based on a true story-- my story to be exact! Don't you all recall a time whenever you were young and innocent and clueless, you know, whenever you were a **freshman**…..Well here's my story of my first year in marching band and I'm here to help you bring back memoirs of whenever you were once a froshy.

Well here's the fourth chapter. I really hope you enjoy it! I worked really hard on it. It's not exactly the best nor is it that long. I'm proud of myself! I did two chapters in one day! I'd also like to thank everybody who reviewed and double thank the lovely people who reviewed more than once. As for the people who haven't reviewed yet, well then review now! And if you have reviewed, it wouldn't hurt to review again. I'll love you all forever more!

We never really got the chance to unpack.

As soon as we started to take everything out, one of the chaperones knocked at the door, poked her head in, and said, "Roeder said to be at the field in five minutes without your instruments. If you show up late, you get the lovely chance to run laps. Now, unless you like to run or need to lose weight, I suggest you get out to the field. Oh, and don't forget your water bottles. You'll be needing them-- it's like 90 degrees outside."

And she finally walked out to inform the girls in the room next door to us. All four of us groaned in protest, but we just grabbed our water bottles and left anyhow. 

Well, at least they did. I couldn't find my water bottle anywhere. I sat and searched for a few minutes and then I finally gave up. 

I ran out of the now-empty building and sprinted across the street to the football field. By the time I got there, I was way out of breath and he had already started.

He saw me running to my section and then said on his speakerphone thinggie, "you're late. Turn around and take a lap."

I sighed and turned around to run some more, even though I felt like I was about to collapse under the heat, pressure, lack of water, and just from running a bunch already. 

After what seemed like forever, I finally finished the lap and got in line with the clarinet section.

TJ walked up to me, who was bent over wheezing, and handed me a small piece of paper. On the paper had my name written on it, my "number" and what seemed like a whole bunch of nonsense.

"Hey TJ," I whispered, "Whatever this is, they messed it up. There's like a billion typo's on here." 

TJ let out a chuckle, shook his head and said, "freshman." 

For some reason, I've been hearing that word a lot. Too much actually. It bothers me. They say it like it's a bad thing.

Then he replied to my comment: "There isn't a single typo on here. If you were here on time then you would've heard Roeder explain to you that these _non-typo_ pieces of papers are called drill sheets, or also known as coordinate sheets."

"Drill sheets? What are they? Is that something to punish people who are late? It wasn't my fault I was late-- I mean it was, but I don't deserve this! I was trying to find my water bottle! I'm just a freshman!" I wailed frantically, panicking. 

TJ couldn't breathe, he was laughing so hard. Soon, he fell onto the ground, guffawing so loudly people were staring and whispering about "a mad clarinetist."

"Excuse me, TJ, could you please share with us what is hilariously funny?" Roeder's voice rang over the field as he spoke into the microphone thing.

"Nothing…..just freshman!" he said, still laughing hilariously. Grr.. that word again!

Roeder then gave us his all-too-famous death glare and the clarinet section leader quieted down a little bit, letting out a chuckle every now and then. 

After somebody finally explained the purpose of drill sheets, I was still one clueless little freshman. Knowing what drill sheets were was one thing; I still had yet to figure out how to use them, however. If I were the only clueless person out there, I'd be pretty embarrassed. Just about all of the freshmen were as clueless as I, but I was still embarrassed. 

Freshman or not, I still always like to try to be better than the rest. I know it sounds kind of conceited, but believe me, I'm not; I just try to push myself past the limit trying to be better than everybody else. 

Heh. I said I try to. I usually never do. I have little patience and tend to want to give up when all doesn't hail to me. 

We had the little pieces of plastic in about seven different colors that we called our chip markers. We put the chips down to mark our spots. 

On every single set, I had to get help. At first I tried to do things myself but then I would somehow find myself ending up on the other side of the field-- where I definitely wasn't supposed to be at. 

I had this one senior piccolo player eventually help me out for the rest of the time. I guess the people who actually _understood_ it got tired of standing in their spots waiting for everybody else to figure things out. 

Then once all of the markers were set down for the first seven sets, we started from set one and went from set-to-set. I had a problem though: somehow (I don't know how…must have to do with that 'freshman' word again) I never made it my spot in time. 

By the time we were finished with the given counts, I was either way far away from the chip or I had passed it up a long time ago. A lot of the times, I completely forgot where my chip marker was and ended up on somebody else's marked spot. 

I was frequently being run over.

I frequently ran people over. At least I was nice enough apologize, however. 

Sometimes I just didn't have enough time to get there or I too much time leftover and then I would pass my spot up. 

Then we had to listen to a lecture from Roeder telling us about how to take the right size and amount) of steps and then we practiced for a while. 

One thing that I noticed and thought frequently was: How in the world am I supposed to remember exactly how to march properly, remember where I'm _supposed_ to go, measure my footsteps and to count and to remember these counts? And that's not all, or so I was told. 

Remember that complicated music Kim and I were like so scared of? Well we were going to have to not only play it perfect, but to memorize it also. _And_ do all of that other stuff _and_ still manage to play the music beautifully with dynamics and style. 

Did he think we were super-human or something? Most of us couldn't even walk and chew bubble gum at the same time. It was impossible, I had said! 

Now it's so _possible_ I could do it in my sleep. 

Finally we got to take a break. When we would come back we would go eat lunch. 

He dismissed us and we ran inside. 

I was so thirsty. Fortunately, the line at the water-fountain wasn't that long. I figures that it would be, but they all were smart; they remembered their water bottles. 

As soon as I got a taste of that disgusting tap water, I went to my room where I found Nicole, Savannah and Kim already unpacking their belongings. 

When I went in there, they informed me that they were going to divide up the wall shelves into four quarters. I went to the unfinished packing and restarted the task. 

I dumped everything onto my bed and put the suitcase in my largest cubbyhole. I refolded all of my clothes and set them in another. I put my hair-dryer, toothbrush, toothpaste, soap, shampoo, and my make-up in one of the four drawers below the sink. 

I closed the now-full drawer and glanced at my reflection in the mirror. I shrieked with disgust. 

The other three girls looked up from what they were doing.

"What's the matter?" Kim asked me. 

"My make-up smeared from sweating outside today!" I whined. "Why didn't anybody ever tell me? Were you all to busy laughing at me to tell me I looked like a black-eyed pea?!"

"No," Nicole answered, "we were too busy working out on the field, trying to figure everything out. I doubt anybody even noticed. You're not even supposed to be wearing make-up to start off with."

"No, we can _wear_ make-up. They just tell us it's better not to in case something like…_this_…happens…" I said slowly. 

The other three just shrugged and went back to what they were doing before I had distracted them. 

I cleaned the smeared make-up and glitter and resumed unpacking. I set my clarinet on the highest shelf and put my towels on a different one, all folded nicely. 

Then I realized I had forgot something: My blankets. I only had my pillow and a fairly small 'couch' blanket that I had brought on the bus with me. I forgot the comforter and sheets at home just like the water bottle. 

What else important item did I forget? 

That would mean either I would have to use the blanket as a sheet and lay on the blanket and freeze or use the blanket and lay on the nasty moth-eaten mattress. It was too small to fold it over in half and do both. 

I'd rather freeze. 

I heard a few people's chatter as they headed down to the cafeteria to eat lunch so I decided to join in. I walked out into the hall and saw that Marca and Erica were standing at their door (it was across the hall from us) about to leave for lunch. I walked up to them and greeted them. 

After they were ready to go I left with them to go eat lunch. 

Man, was I hungry.

__ **__**

Endnote: So, did you like it? Well whether you did our not, please please please review! I'll love yew forever more, I promise! Keep a lookout for future chapters also. More band experiences that you could probably relate to!

Love ya lots!

--Mae-Lynn Moodle, KlarinetKween


	5. Big Booty and The Singing Senior Woodwin...

****

A Freshman's Guide to Ruining Your Band

__

Chapter Five

Big Booty and the Singing Senior Woodwind Trio

****

A/n: Hi it's me again! This is based on a true story-- my story to be exact! Don't you all recall a time whenever you were young and innocent and clueless, you know, whenever you were a **freshman**…..Well here's my story of my first year in marching band and I'm here to help you bring back memoirs of whenever you were once a froshy.

Here's the fifth chapter. I hope you like it. Hmm, this was really hard to remember! Especially the rules to Big Booty-- but more about that later! If I got something a little wrong, please don't sue me! ^_^ I'd like to thank probably my most loyal fan, Lord Jareth. He's reviewed every single one of my chapters I've written so far. Like I said, I'll love him forever more! If you want your name up here next time like dear ol' Lord Jareth, then do the same as him: review! I'd also like to thank everybody who reviewed and double thank the lovely people who reviewed more than once. As for the people who haven't reviewed yet, well then review now! And if you have reviewed, it wouldn't hurt to review again. I'll love you all forever more!

I stood in line with Marca and Erica, but I really didn't say much.

I felt so out of place. It seemed as though most of the people here could play really awesome and knew everything already. I felt as though I were the only clueless person here-- the only freshman. 

I noticed as we neared closer to the cafeteria (it was a pretty long line that was sort of halfway inside, halfway outside) I could hear some people singing faintly. 

Finally the line had moved up enough to where our part of the line made it into the building. The people who were serving the food were all singing as they gave food portions to each person and to the next in line. 

They were singing Christian songs (I told you they were volunteers from some church, didn't I?) 

They sang pretty well, actually. 

Suddenly, TJ, my section leader, decided he had the urge to join in with them and sing very loudly. 

He truly sucked at singing. I guess that's why he was stuck in band instead of chorus. 

Then another voice joined the singing ensemble and the serving girls stopped singing, listening to the two with a bemused expression on their faces. 

It was that senior saxophone, Chris… the one who had the bathroom dilemma earlier. 

Unlike TJ, Chris had an awesome voice, which I guess was why he was in Honor Chorus…but enough about that later. 

Then they started on another tune. 

"Jesus loves me, this I know.." they began.

Then another voice joined the duet, then making it a trio.

"--For the Bible tells me so.." 

It was Bethany, the senior piccolo who had so gratefully helped me with my sets on the field earlier that day. 

She sang pretty good, too. 

Chris, TJ, and Bethany: The Singing Senior Woodwind Trio. Hey.. they were all woodwinds! Woodwinds kick brass! 

Finally it was my turn to get my food. I was so hungry. The only food that I had that day was about one bite of that doughnut before it was dropped to the ground, then to be covered by dirt. 

I got my food and went to go sit down. I looked around for my friend, Shawna, but I couldn't find her anywhere. I figured she must have been still in the line so I went to go sit with Kim. I bit into the piece of pizza and my hunger pain soon went away. 

Soon the rest of the band was all sitting down with their food in the cafeteria. By then I had already finished my lunch. 

After the line had disappeared, three of the serving girls walked out. 

One cried out, singing, "Seconds…" 

And then the next girl sang in a note higher, "Seconds.." 

And Finally the third girl sang in a note high than the second girl, "Seconds!" 

People, mainly guys, then ran immaturely with their trays, in hope of more food. They fought frantically over a spot in line, apparently afraid that the abundant food was going to suddenly disappear. Once they won the spot, a look of satisfaction and 'victory' was plastered to their faces. 

We had about 45 minutes to an hour to eat, but even after we were finished eating, we weren't allowed to leave until we were dismissed. 

Obviously, since I was one of the first few people to eat, and because I barely eat anything, I was finished before most people. I was bored as ever, especially since I didn't really know anybody yet and felt out of place. 

As I was sitting there, with my mind wandering off into La-La Land, I felt a soggy french fry slap against my forehead. I looked around to see who could've done something like that. 

Then I saw Shawna Bell across the lunch room, doubled over with giggles. 

I grinned mischievously and the next thing she knew, there was her french fry back in (or _on_ should I say). 

She giggled and then threw some lettuce at me, but it landed right down in an unpleasant spot! I cringed as the dewy damp lettuce slid down my shirt. 

I looked daggers at Shawna, who couldn't breathe by now because she was laughing so hard. 

She grabbed something from her plate, threw it, and before I could duck, the sharp object had hit my eye. 

"My eye!" I gasped in pain. 

I closed my eye, as it burned very badly.

"I'm so sorry!" Shawna shouted from the other side of the lunchroom. 

"It hurts, oh my god, it freaking hurts!" I wailed. 

Kim, who was sitting next to me, asked what was wrong with me. 

I told her that Shawna had thrown a ketchup packet at me and its sharp edge had hit my eye. 

"Open your eye," she instructed me. 

I tried, but with no avail. 

"It burns!" I told her. I tried again. 

My eye opened but it didn't stay like that for long. My immediate reflex made me close it right again.

"You're eye's bleeding!" Kim shouted, freaking out.

"It is?!" I asked.

"Oh my god, my eye id bleeding!" I whimpered.

Shawna heard us and ran across the lunch room. "Oh I'm so sorry!" she kept repeating. She felt so bad. I really don't think she meant to hit me in the eye or even hurting me at all.

Finally, Roeder asked us to quiet down so he could make an announcement before he dismissed us.

"Colorguard, Aunt Sally (Flag Lady) wants you to meet in the gym you had practiced in earlier today. Band: I want you all to back to your rooms, put your instruments together and meet us in the building next to this one, the cafeteria if you didn't know, in ten minutes," he announced.

"And don't forget to brush your teeth," he added before we left.

I ran to my room and immediately looked into the mirror, with Shawna trailing behind me, repetitively expressing how truly sorry she was.

Indeed, my eye really was bleeding. However, fairly. It wasn't really that bad and the pain was slowly decreasing.   
"I'm so so sorry," Shawna said, yet again.

Finally, I turned around, smiling, and said, "it's okay," and left it just like that.

I grabbed my instrument, music and went to the building that was located exactly next to the cafeteria. 

In there was the director's podium, chairs arranged in rows accompanied by rusty black music stands and an old piano in the back. 

Despite the rusty old music stands, the room was absolutely beautiful. 

The walls were painted a light reddish-purple sort of color and had a gorgeous border lined on it with magnolias. There were huge magnolias flowers (they looked fake) decorating the walls of the room and there was a huge carpet with a pretty color to match the wall paint. Huge windows with pretty magnolia-patterned curtains covered the walls.

After I was finished gaping at how beautifully decorated the room was, I found where the clarinets would be sitting, found the sixth chair of the first row, sat down and put my clarinet together. 

Soon after I sat down, the other clarinets joined me. I pulled my music out and started to attempt to play the complicated music. 

The air was filled with instrument, each practicing something different from one another. 

It sounded so yucky that I decided to play loud to drown out their awful sounds. 

Big mistake.

I should've tried, perhaps, to play something that I at least _knew_ how to play, but I couldn't. 

The thing was, every piece of music that we had was extremely complicated and technical compared to what I was used to playing in middle school. 

I attempted to play our marching music (which had weird keys, high, high notes that I had never even seen in my life before and weird time signatures that constantly changed). 

However, I sounded so… _horrible_ (if there's an even better word to use to describe how awful I sounded, then throw it at me) that Candace, that senior clarinet turned and said to TJ in an unnecessarily loud voice, "Ugh! Gross! These freshmen can't play worth a flip! Why can't we get some freshmen who actually knows how to play for once?" 

I put my instrument down and just sat there staring into space, furiously thinking, until Roeder walked into the room and asked us to be quiet. 

He gave instructions, we warmed up, played for a long time and then he dismissed us for a two-hour break in which we were allowed to go swimming. 

We all left the building and went to our rooms. I put my clarinet up in its case and then put the box onto its shelf. I thought about swimming. 

I wasn't exactly in the mood for swimming nor was I very fond of showing off my body in a two-piece bikini. 

So I decided just to go ahead and hang out in the common room. I went in there I sunk into the comfortable armchair in the air-conditioned room. 

Apparently, I wasn't the only person who was too tired to swim. There was a whole load of other people laying everywhere in there, soaking in the cold air while it lasted. A couple of people actually went swimming.

We sat there for a while, lightly chatting. Then a few people got up, stood in a circle and started a little game. The other people in the common room, their curiosity getting to the best of them, went to stand behind them to see what it was, myself included.

The people in the group started clapping and chanting, "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…"

The they started this slap-the-legs clap-the-hands rhythm while singing, "big booty, big booty, big booty, oh yeah, big booty…"

Then they started off on this weird number thing.

Chris sang, "Big booty number one." 

Then Candace sang, "Number one, number two." 

Then it was our Drum Major, Sarah, "Number two, number five."

Justin's turn. "Number five, number…ahh!"

Then they all started to shout, "You lost! You lost! You're out Justin!" 

Justin grinned and got out of the circle. This game went on for a long time until there was only two people left. 

When the game was over, everybody who didn't know how to play it asked the people who knew how to explain the rules to us so we could join them.

"Well," Chris said, "This is a game that I made up last year. It's called Big Booty. Okay, this is how it goes: At the beginning of the game, you decide who is going to be Big Booty. Then everybody in the circle, not including Big Booty, counts off in order and has a designated number. You have to remember that number. They start the game off by slapping their legs repetitively saying 'ohhhh' until they're ready and everybody has to follow them. When they stop everybody else does also and then they start chanting, 'Big booty, big booty, big booty. Oh yeah. Big Booty'. Then Big Booty starts off by starts off by saying Big Booty number one, and then the person who had the number one says Number one, number-- and then they pick a number, any of the people who are playing's numbers. That number says their number and another's number-- and so on. But the thing is, you have to stay in rhythm of slap- clap. If you forget the number, you lose. Get it?"

Some people got it at first but some didn't. But as more and more people played, the others figured things out by watching them. 

Then as some people came back early from swimming, they joined in. soon, just about the whole band was playing while the chaperones and even the band director laughed from behind, taking pictures of us acting so silly and having fun. 

Wow, as immature as we were acting, I have to admit, it was soo much fun. 

I'm serious!

And you know, as much fun as I was having then, the fun had just begun.

__

(Hey that rhymes! ^_^)

__ ****

Endnote: So, did you like it? Well whether you did our not, please please please review! I'll love yew forever more, I promise! Keep a lookout for future chapters also. More band experiences that you could probably relate to!

Love ya lots!

--Mae-Lynn Moodle, KlarinetKween


End file.
